A lock of hair falls in my face, and I flick my neck to bat it away. And then—shit. I see my dad.
He’s coming out of the government building. He’s holding hands with a girl who is very clearly not my mom, and he’s smiling and laughing. My heart stops. Stops beating in my chest. Because there he is, clear as day. He has the same crooked nose as in the picture in his file. The same floppy haircut. But mostly I know it’s him because of my heart. The heart knows.
“Have you seen Vaughn yet?” Yellow whispers beside me, then she turns. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her head whip from me to my dad. “Iris. Is that your dad?”
I choke out a breath and nod.
“Iris.” Her voice is soft, sad.
My legs start walking. I don’t mean for them to. They just do. “I just . . . I have to . . .” I don’t finish the thought. I don’t know what the end of the thought is.
Yellow doesn’t follow. At least I don’t hear her behind me. I’m looking straight ahead, watching my dad run two fingers under his collar, unbutton his top button, and loosen his tie. He drops the girl’s hand, and she plants a kiss on his cheek and takes off for the dining hall. My dad watches her go.
I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so young. He looks like he belongs here. A student. My body doesn’t know how to feel. My stomach is nervous, but my heart is lifted. I’m light-headed, but I’m thinking clearly. My legs are tingly, but my feet are strong.
My dad is right there, two feet away from me. A real, living human being. I clear my throat, and he turns around. His eyes grow wide with surprise, as if he can’t believe a nonstudent managed to break into one of the country’s most secure government training schools.
“Who are you?” he asks.
His voice. It’s different than it was at the Kennedy assassination. The day he died. His voice isn’t rushed or frantic. It’s as smooth as silk, yet warm and inviting.
“My name is . . .” Amanda. My name is Amanda. I’m your daughter. “Iris.”
“How’d you get in here, Iris?” He looks beyond me, toward the dining hall. I turn my head and peer over my shoulder. Most of the kids are filing inside, but there are a few stragglers, mostly guys, standing around watching us.
“I know about the hole in the hedge and the bent bars,” I say.
My dad makes this face that I only assume is his stern face. The stern face I never got a chance to see. But I can change that. I can change that right now by telling my dad what I know. So why am I hesitating?
“It’s not important,” I say.
My dad’s eyes flick over to the dining hall, then back at me. “Look, do you need me for something?”
I take a breath, ready to open my mouth and spill out everything. How I know that he is going to leave Peel and someday join Annum Guard. How Headmaster Vaughn is going to pay him to go on certain missions. How he’s going to die on one of them. How it is absolutely critical that my dad plays it straight and clean.
And then my dad’s face changes. He looks right into my eyes—the same shape and color as his own—and recognition dawns on his face. I see him struggling to put two and two together.
“Do I know you?” he asks.
I’m going to lose it. I’m not this strong. I want to leap into my father’s arms and have him hold me, to make up for all those scraped knees and wounded souls he wasn’t there for.
Yes! my mind screams. Yes, you know me! You made me. You left me. Please don’t leave me. My mother is sick, and I can’t take care of her. You’re the only one who can. She needs you. I need you.
But the words stay firmly entrenched in my mind, never making it to my lips. Because deep down, this is wrong. It feels all wrong. I can try to pass off my motives as being for the good of the world, but they’re not. They’re purely selfish. I’m doing this because I want my dad back. I want to grow up with a father. And a mother who’s not sick. I want a normal life.
But no matter how much I may want and wish for that, I can’t have it.
“There’s been a mistake.” It comes out barely louder than a whisper. “You’re not who I’m looking for.”
But my dad doesn’t turn away. “I’m sorry, but you look really familiar. You sure I don’t know you?”
I’m about ten seconds away from losing it. “I—” My voice cracks. “I don’t know you.” I whip around and fly down the stairs toward Yellow, and there is the absence of everything. No sound. The scene before me goes fuzzy. I can’t even remember why I’m here.
Then a door slams, and I’m brought back.
“Julian!” my dad calls in a loud, happy voice.
“Hey, Mitch, who was that?” another male voice says from behind me.
“I don’t know,” my dad says. “Some girl named Iris.”
Yellow’s eyes get big, and I look over my shoulder. She gasps. I gasp. Because my dad is standing there talking to a teenage Alpha. An Alpha who apparently went to Peel. And an Alpha whose memories now include a weird teenage girl named Iris showing up at school one day with something important to say to my dad.
“Iris!” Yellow yells, and my head snaps to her.
I race toward her. “Project!” I yell. “Now! This is going to be an ambush!”
CHAPTER 27
We don’t even get the chance to pull out the watches.
POP!
POP!
POP!
“No!” Yellow screams. We bump into each other as we run. Run away from Orange and Green and Violet.
POP!
POP!
POP!
Three more forms appear in front of us. Blue. Indigo. And who’s that? A male form is crouched on the ground, his hands over his ears and his head ducked. It’s someone new? They added a new member? And then I stop running.
I know who it is. My heart leaps up into the clouds and dances on air because I didn’t destroy his future. He’s here. Alive. But then it falls crashing back to earth because now I know they’ve got him.
Before I can make a move, we’re surrounded.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
Six gun barrels being locked. Not tasers. Not paintball guns. Real guns.
“Oh, what, you’re going to shoot us?” Yellow screams as she throws her hands in the air. “You’re all being lied to! Every one of you!”
I’m looking at Orange, but I pivot around on my heel to find Abe. His eyes are waiting for mine; and the moment they meet, he lowers his weapon, and my heart soars.
“Abe!” My feet leap forward, and before I know it, I’m running to him.
Abe raises the gun again. “Iris, stop!”
I skid to a halt. He called me Iris. And his eyes are distant. As if they see through me, not at me. Alpha’s got him. I blow out a breath, blow out my shock. Somehow Alpha got to Abe. Did he threaten him? With what?
“Abe, talk to me! Say something!”
He doesn’t look at me. He’s still looking through me.
“Abraham!” I yell. “I know you. I know about Ariel.”
I start toward him again, but he raises the gun higher with his right hand, so I stop.
“I didn’t,” he says in barely more than a whisper. There’s hurt and bitterness emanating from those two simple, hushed words, and my heart aches. I want to hold him, kiss him, tell him that we’ll figure it out together. But then Abe’s face changes. It contorts into anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”